Rapture
by The Humble Mosquito
Summary: HP crossover. Novella. 12LH. St Christopher's college, Oxford is one of the finest educational establishhments in the world. Two bright sparks with a lot of history are on their way.


**Disclaimer:** Hermione Granger is the creation of JK Rowling. Artemis Fowl is Eoin Colfer's. 

**Dedications: **Huge thanks to _Dim Alderban_ for the truly wonderful beta (and this counts for all future chapters which she beta's – which I certainly hope will be all.) Medium sized thank you to _Blue Yeti_ for original plot development – ask her why this is at Oxford! And a small thanks to the starter and participants in the Criminality thread which made me write this.

EDIT: Seemingly, I need to thank _The White Lily_ as well, because she just likes to randomly beta stuff.

(Author's notes are at the bottom.)

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RAPTURE

**Chapter 1**

**TAINTED HUNTERS**

She didn't know why, but this wasn't what she'd expected. She had assumed that the entrance would be a bit like Hogwarts': ancient and full of character. But then, when she had first gone to Hogwarts, eight years ago to the day, she had _known _what to expect. She had seen the photos; she had read the books. This was different.

All the same, Oxford was packed full of history and so one would have thought it would look somewhat… historical. It didn't. The foyer was massive and spaciously uncluttered. Other than for a few tables with buffet snacks on them, it was empty, a sports stadium awaiting the masses just before kick off. The carpet was blue and rhythmically bumpy; the ceiling was high and dirty white, just like the walls.

Hermione strolled in at the front of the queue.

_Why am I here?_

If it weren't for the hundred or so enthusiastic students that were following her in, blocking the entrance like a barricade, she would have turned around, and sprinted away into the autumn air, away back to wizards and witches, back to magic, hell, back to Hogwarts.

_No._ She needed a fresh start; there was too much pain.

St Christopher's combination of fine heritage and superb modern facilities resulted in more applications than any other university in the world. Up until about 50 years ago, the college's supply line had been practically all upper class grammar school students. Even now, only the best, brightest and most well spoken realistically stood a chance of gaining admittance. Luckily for Hermione, she was all three. And she had a collection of brilliantly forged documents and references on her side. The ministry thought it acceptable to occasionally infiltrate the Muggle education system, when there was a 'special case,' and Hermione was _definitely_ special case. Her N.E.W.T results spoke for themselves; she would have undoubtedly have received the necessary qualifications, had she stayed in Muggle schooling. Still, she hadn't been entirely comfortable with the arrangement, but morality had been put to one side: she had to get away.

As she glanced around the room, though – which was now full of nerdy students, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt.

_I shouldn't be here. I haven't earned it._

A few minutes of embarrassing silence passed, and then a loud cough came through a microphone in the top left hand side of the huge hall. Everyone turned their attention to it. Hermione hadn't noticed, but there was a small podium equipped with high-tech projection and sound equipment. A wooden lectern stood on it and, behind that, a grey haired, elderly lady, with skin as pallid as her surroundings. Her wrinkled head just peered over the top.

To Hermione, she bore an ironic resemblance to Professor McGonagall, in both appearance, and in the job she was about to fulfil.

_Get that wretched place out of your mind, Hermione. You've got to move on. _

The lady let out a second cough and then began, "Good morning. My name is Jerica Kodak and I am the Vice-Chancellor of this college." She spoke with a quiet, yet powerful voice. "Allow me the honour of welcoming you to St Christopher's college. This is _undoubtedly_ the finest institution for undergraduates in the country. You should feel immense pride at your acceptance. In times to come, all of you will be spending a great deal of time here." Her face softened a little and she paused, as if building up to her party piece, "You will be working, eating, _working_, occasionally sleeping and, of course, you will be working a little more."

This was met with replicated laughter and applause. At first, Hermione thought she was the only person in the room not taken in by Jerica Kodak's inane public speaking. But then a short young man with long dark hair caught her gaze; he had pleasantly arranged facial features, though his eyes were small and distrusting. He was short and straight – like an overused pencil blending in with the fresh new ink. His arms were folded and he wore a straight-lipped scowl of slightly sardonic boredom. It took Hermione a moment to realise that he was actually looking back at her – as if to say 'you look like you're the only other person in here with any individual thought process,' but there was no warmth or friendliness in his grimace… just plain boredom.

Hermione attempted to smile at him, making sure to equal his scorn at Kodak's speech

In reply, the boy merely raised his eyebrows in a way, which was clearly designed to impose some kind of intellectual superiority. Hermione was gently amused rather than offended by this and did a half-hearted imitation of his glare. For a few seconds they stared at each other, as if they were six year olds in the playground, trying to last the longest. The boy tried to keep his composed, distrusting, glower, he really did, but eventually, he couldn't help it; the two of them let out simultaneous bursts of soundless laughter. They stood there, laughing uncontrollably at each other from opposite sides of the room for a few minutes.

Eventually Kodak finished, and somehow Hermione found herself drifting through the crowds of clapping, back patting students, towards the mystery figure.

"Hello, there. Not exactly stimulating stuff, is it?" Hermione said, trying to sound as positive as she could, and ignoring the look of synthetic puzzlement on the boy's face.

Silence.

"My name is Hermione, by the way."

Silence.

"Who are you?"

Silence.

"Are you _deaf_?" Hermione snapped.

"My ears hear what is worthy of them," he quipped.

"Look, we were laughing at each other a moment ago. Your memory can't be that bad, or you wouldn't be here. Or are you just some idiot who bought his way in?"

The young man attempted a cruel grin, but evidently felt too guilty.

"Sorry," he mumbled, "My name is Artemis. Artemis Fowl."

"Oh, hello, Artemis. – What a fascinating name. – A Greek Godd_ess _though, I believe. I'm Hermione Granger," she stuck out a hand.

Artemis looked at it warily for a second, as if it was going to bite him. But then thought better of it and shook it briefly. "What are you studying here then?"

'"Studying' is a word used loosely."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked taken aback, but curious.

"Just that … I don't think I'm going to learn a lot here," he replied with equal caution.

"That old bat may be arrogant, but she's right. This _is_ a brilliant school," Hermione frowned to herself, as she said it. A few years ago she would never have dreamed of referring to a respected educator as an 'old bat.' Circumstance had taken its toll; she was clearly no longer the same sweet naïveté.

"No, it's a fine college, I just doubt there is much they can teach me,"

"Not an able leaner then?" she smiled "Or do you just like to sound arrogant for the sake of it?"

"It's simply the truth,"

"Well then, why are you here?"

"For social development. The people close to me advised me to get some life experience, and I agree. It might be wise. Also, the accumulation of qualifications is sadly necessary in modern society."

"Okay, then, Artemis, what subject will you be'accumulating the qualification' for?" she asked, slightly amused.

"Physics and English."

Hermione smiled weakly, "That's not a degree."

"I know. I'm having two majors."

"Two? I didn't know that was allowed."

"Special dispensation; they think I can cope,"

"Oh," Hermione muttered. The mere idea of someone doing more work than her was as repugnant as ever. People change, but some things don't.

"So just the one for you then, Miss Granger? What a shame. What will it be then?"

"English as well. I reasoned that I would probably have an advantage, given that I'll probably be _re_-reading everything."

"Apparently, the first of the syllabi focuses on Chaucer. I'm quite fond of his works, actually, but I much prefer _The Legend of Good Women_ and _Troilus and Criseyde_ to _The Canterbury Tales_; I found that far too… whimsical. What do you think?" Artemis was half-socialising, half-testing.

"Err…" Hermione stared at him, pleasantly shocked – someone who actually _read._

Compose yourself Hermione; this is one of the best universities in the world, of course there are other people with brains.

"Err… I find it hard it hard to compare _Troilus_ to _Canterbury_, their styles and themes are far too diverse, but I think the iambic pentameter in _The Legend of Good Women_ is reminiscent of the Tales; perhaps he was developing style. Surely, _A Parliament of Fowls_ will get a mention?" she retorted.

Artemis was mildly impressed, "Ha. No, my namesake will certainly _not _get a mention, not from me, anyway. Anything that advocates St Valentines day for soppy romance should be thrown on the metaphorical fire."

"You're not a romantic then?" she queried, again amused.

"I wouldn't know."

"Do you _want _to know?"

"I don't know! What is it with you?"

Hermione blushed, "Well, sorry," she paused, alleviating some of the tension, "So much for social eh?"

"Sorry." That word was beginning to annoy Artemis; two apologies in one conversation. This girl was having an odd effect on him.

"It's okay. 'Social _Development_' implies the need for improvement," Hermione quipped, grinning.

"So _Hermione_ what brings you into my company; why are you here?" He asked, beginning to relax, for once.

"What an odd question. I'm here to learn, of course. Unlike you, I think have the potential for intellectual improvement. Maybe you've already peaked."

Artemis shrugged. "Maybe I have," he replied dryly, "but you didn't really answer my question, not properly.

Hermione hesitated. The pause was strangely comfortable. "I'm here… I'm here because I'm running away. Is that a more suitable response?"

"It will do. What are you running away from?"

"You've become inquisitive all of a sudden, haven't you?" she said, trying to deflect attention away from this line of questioning.

"I'm being _social. _And stop changing the subject," he said impatiently

Another pause. Hermione sighed, why was his voice so damn inviting? Maybe it would do her good to say something, even if he was just some random boy who happened to have a few active brain cells.

"I'm running away from the past; I'm running away from pain; I'm running away from the past; I'm running away from my fears; but most of all, I'm running away from love."

"Would you like to be a bit more cryptic, Hermione?"

"Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, _Artemis_."

"After clichés, of course. And you're running away _now_."

"Are you always like this?"

"Yes. Sorry," he said with visible pain on the word 'sorry.'

"And, if you must know…" Hermione faded off. It was too difficult. She looked down at the ground, hoping secretly that it would swallow her up.

"What is it?" Artemis encouraged.

"I… I lost someone. Someone I loved."

Artemis opened his mouth probably preparing to go into an insensitive rant, but evidently changed his mind. "I'm sorry," he replied after a moment, "I didn't mean to pry."

"You're sorry _again_! And yes, you really, really do suck," she laughed, resting her hand poignantly on his arm

Artemis looked into her eyes; this conversation was uncomfortably comfortable, dislikeable likeable, strangely not strange.

"Yeah err…"

Artemis seemed inwardly shaken. "Shall we go get a snack then?" He said pointing to the white table, which were jam-packed full of weird and wonderful delicacies.

Hermione made an involuntary squeak at his shyness and then kissed him, with aboldness that surprised even herself. The moment their lips smacked together Artemis withdrew.

"What are you doing? We just met!" He lowered his voice, for they had attracted some attention now. Hermione turned tomato red and turned away to leave, like the embarrassed schoolgirl she used to be. Artemis instantly pitied her and regretted what he'd done.

Eighteen years of unused spontaneity seemed to come loose in Artemis.

"Hermione, wait." He accelerated to catch her up, and then grabbed her arm to swing her around she was light, too light, for her height, "Hermione," And with that he pulled her head, bushy brown hair and all, into to and inch of his own. He paused. "What do I do now," he mumbled.

Hermione fought back a giggle, "Do you want a thesis or the short version? "

And then they kissed. Exploring each other's faces like toddlers in a new home; they seemed to find some kind of natural peace in each other

After a minute or two of breathless bliss, Hermione pulled away.

Artemis opened his eyes, "Why have you stopped?"

Hermione slapped him, "That's why," she looked a tiny bit indignant, but not angry or gleeful.

Artemis was puzzled. "What?"

"Sufficiently humiliated?" Artemis nodded. "Good. Sorry. I just didn't want you to… you know… hold all the cards. Now, do you want to get out of here?"

Artemis nodded again. Still very confused, he whispered, "Don't expect me to hold your hand, though, Hermione."

"I wasn't."

"Oh, and, Hermione…"

"Yes?"

"My name is 'Artemis' because I _hunt._"

**End of Chapter 1**

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**Authors Notes: **

Right this is my big project at the moment. It's looking like 3 or 4 chapters. The pairing is obvious, but maybe the reasons for it aren't back. You are going to get quite a bit of back-story in the next chapter, which will be just… great.

I hope no one hated the kiss, but believe me, it was a lot worse to start with. (Thanks, Dim.)

This has been cut down a lot, as originally I had three bits of Artemis' thoughts, but my P.O.V. got a little… messy.

This took a lot out of me, but I absolutely love the pairing, so the next chapter won't be too far away.

Thoughts, as ever, are appreciated.


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